


In the Wee Small Hours

by Issay



Series: Portraits [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, Feminism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1233145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Issay/pseuds/Issay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is Anne and there is the queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Wee Small Hours

**Author's Note:**

> No idea if this story is any good (feedback needed!). But it came to me and demanded publishing. So I publish.

Anne hates his touch.

It had disgusted her from the very beginning of their marriage, but she thought that no relationship is perfect, especially when you meet your future husband five minutes before the actual wedding. But she stoically decided that having children was her prerogative and without touching achieving this was simply not possible. What choice did she have but to tighten her lips and stand it? But after years of fruitless in-and-out movements in their bedchamber, with all the ritual it takes to put them both in the same room (they did not have a joined bedroom, never), his wet hands and sweetly smelling breath make her nauseous.

So she is not surprised when it happens for the first time.

She had thoughts about it for months now but never the chance and, to be completely honest, courage. Yes, she is Anne, a woman with all her needs and cravings and dreams. But she is also Anne of France, the queen and the crown on her head weights more and more every day. Queens do not need to be happy, her mother used to say and Anne never understood what she meant. Until now. Until Louis and his whiny voice and ideas that seem moronic even to her, his wife, who should encourage him and support in everything. She is a woman of thirty years and without a child. She knows what people think and what they whisper when she passes them. They may bow their heads to her but without a heir to the throne, she is worthless.  
But even worse than failing as a queen is this emptiness and lonely hours of the night.

So she is not surprised when this young man who saved her life ends up in her bedchamber, glorious in his bareness. This first time is somewhere between complete bliss and choking fear that they will be caught and then they will sentence him to death and she will have to become a nun like every disgraced, unfaithful wife. But there is also this pure, wild pleasure she had never known.  
When this happens for the second, third and hundredth time, she catches herself on comparing them. Louis has wet hands and he places them on her breasts, never anywhere else. Aramis' are always warm and dry, keen to explore her body and go back to the places that made her moan. She hates the king's breath – it smells of milk, too sweet and cold, just in her face. But she barely notices that Aramis breathes, sometimes there is this faint smell of mint and that is it. Louis bores her. Aramis...  
One time he lowers his head and places it between her thighs and she never knew that it could be so good, so _right_. Louis hates the mess their coupling makes, he always has small pieces of wet cloth to clean his hands and manhood. Aramis craves her wetness, relishes in it. He uses his tongue, his fingers and sometimes even his cheeks to make her stay in this limbo between bliss and greed for pleasure. He could keep her there for hours and still take his delight in it but they have no time, they never have enough time. But they still try to steal it, take as much as they can. Queen of France is not present during those short, hastened hours. But Anne is – Anne, strong and beautiful and with her lips swollen from his kisses. Anne who knows what she wants and takes it, consequences be damned.  
The queen is not a person, she is just a mask. Anne hides her true face underneath it and takes it off then they are alone. She knows, oh, she knows so well that maybe one they this secret will come out. Maybe not with Aramis – she doubts that now, when she knows how it can be, there will not be any other man. She knows how he looks at her, like he is in love with her and love is a dangerous word when you have a crown on your head. It pains her a little but maybe the musketeer should leave her life, at least for now. There will be someone to replace him, she is sure of that.

Anne starts seeing her world in a different way. It is not a cage anymore. It is a box of chocolates, and fine selection, too. And there will be a hell to pay if she is not careful. But Anne does not care.  
Pleasure frees her and that is the only thing worth paying it for.

**Author's Note:**

> I took the work title from Frank Sinatra and his absolutely fabulous album (under the same title).


End file.
